


Mutant Gazelles

by Silverilly



Category: Portal (Video Game)
Genre: Cute, F/M, Fluff, Mild Language, Testing - Freeform, caveline, professional, respect
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 12:31:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2850932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silverilly/pseuds/Silverilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Caroline, despite being a mere assistant, is asked to help design a new kind of test chamber.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mutant Gazelles

**Author's Note:**

  * For [millennium_queen](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=millennium_queen).



> This was one of the pieces I wrote for this year's Portal Secret Santa. This one, like the other one I wrote, was a request for fluffy Caveline, specifically focussing on Cave and Caroline designing a test chamber together.

                “Caroline, can you come in here for a minute?”

                Caroline stared longingly at the paper before her. There was so much work to be done, but the voice on the intercom always came first. With no more hesitance, she stood and made her way into her boss’s office.

                “Yes, Mr. Johnson?” A mug of fresh coffee warmed her hand. He hadn’t asked for one—not yet—but she always liked to have one waiting for him. Sure enough, he took it automatically, an action as natural as breathing.

                “Thanks.” His voice was gruff and he seemed distracted, but the word was enough for her. Not many people had ever been thanked by Cave Johnson. “Can you come take a look at this, kiddo? I wanna get a handle on some new testing chambers.”

                Caroline felt a splash of heat rise to her face. She was a mere assistant; the test chambers shouldn’t have been her domain. “Me, sir? Are you sure you don’t want someone more…qualified?”

                “Who’s more qualified than you? If the guys designing these were actually good at their jobs, I wouldn’t have to look at these in the first place. But you, you’re the smartest person in this goddamn building—except for me, of course. Only reason you’re not working on those projects full-time is the fact that I need you here. No one makes coffee like you do, Caroline.”

                By now she was surely beet red. It wasn’t often that anyone was willing to pay her a compliment—she was just an assistant, after all, and a  _woman_ at that. The most she could usually expect was a fixation on her blouse, no matter how modestly she tried to dress. But  _Cave Johnson_ , the man who’d  _founded_ the greatest science company of all time, thought she was smart. Cave Johnson thought her opinion was worthwhile. Cave Johnson wanted her advice.

                “Caroline?”

                She gave a sudden start, realizing that Cave was looking expectantly at her. Her blush, if possible, deepened. “I…I’m sorry, Mr. Johnson. I’m just very flattered. L-let me see…”

                She circled his desk until she was standing behind him, observing his plans from above. Her hand fell instinctively to his shoulder, and it was hard to keep focused when she couldn’t stop thinking about how strange this felt. He felt warm, felt strong under her fingertips, and yet here he was asking for her. She stood above him but behind him, and something about it made her feel very frightened but very powerful.

                “What do you think?”

                Cave’s words sent her flying back to reality.  _Focus, Caroline_. Here she was, being offered the chance to give her opinion to one of the most powerful men in the world, and she was wasting it daydreaming. “I’m sorry, sir—would you please repeat that?”

                “I was thinking if pressing this button unleashed an army of mutant gazelles, then the test subjects would have to figure out a workaround—even though there’s no workaround. They gotta trigger the gazelles. But they can build a wall up against them with this…” He pointed at the blueprint. “…and then they’ll have to balance it out with this, and—”

                “…Gazelles, sir?”

                He turned his face toward her, twisting his neck in a way than couldn’t be comfortable. “’Course. Majestic kinda thing—nothing like whatever Black Mesa’s got going on in that shithole.”

                Of course. Gazelles. What would  _possibly_ be wrong with trying to raise an army of mutant gazelles? It wasn’t as if gazelles were incredibly expensive just to obtain, let alone feed and manage. Then, of course, they’d have to be genetically mutated in some way, and they’d be unpredictable and scientifically useless in a testing situation, and they’d probably die off and have to be replaced…

                “Mr. Johnson…” She thought carefully about her words. Cave Johnson wasn’t the type of man who took kindly to being wrong. If she hurt his pride, he wouldn’t hear a word she said,  _and_ she’d have to face his poor mood for the next week. She had to be subtle. “Gazelles certainly are an interesting choice, but have you considered thinking even bigger?”

                His eyes lit up. “Bigger?”

                She bit her lip, trying not to smile too much. He was downright  _adorable_ when excited about something. “Yes, sir. The idea’s  _genius_ , and gazelles really are majestic, just like you said, but they’re also organic. Straight from the earth, even if they’ve been…modified. Wouldn’t it be even more exciting if it was a bit more technological?”

                “Technological?”

                “Lasers,” she blurted, the idea still forming in her mind. Yes, lasers  _would_ be expensive, but they’d be far more sustainable than mutant gazelles, and so very _scientific_ … “Controlled lasers, activated by button-pushing, or maybe by releasing them, or—”

                “Lasers,” repeated Cave thoughtfully. “Lasers—that’s  _perfect!_ ”

                Her body flooded with pleasure. She was relieved, of course, that he wasn’t going through with something that would cost everything and gain nothing, but she was also simply happy to have been useful. “Perfect, sir?”

                “ _Perfect_.” And with that, he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her onto his lap.

                “Mr. Johnson!” She was blushing again, cognizant of every single part of him that touched her. This was, obviously, incredibly inappropriate—but she didn’t even think of moving away. Still, she cast a nervous glance at the door. “What are you—”

                His lips stopped her, warm and eager on her own. Startled, she froze—but only for a moment. After all, she’d pictured this, embarrassingly enough, dozens of times. Surely she could handle herself now, as his fingers tangled in her hair…except that this was  _better_ than her fantasies. She could have never imagined the scent of his cologne, fresh and clean under the sharp sterile tang of Aperture. She could have never imagined the bitter taste of expensive cigars under a coating of coffee. She could have never imagined him holding her so close, a whirlpool dragging her in with no escape, _wanting_ her. He  _wanted_ her.

                Somehow, she managed to get over her shock enough to return the kiss. Her motions were careful, delicate, engulfed at first by the power he offered. She wanted to be  _perfect_ for him, and she wasn’t exactly an experienced kisser. Yet as his tongue pressed against her lips, demanding that she open for him, she found herself overwhelmed with the rush of finally getting what she wanted. She lost herself completely, diving into his embrace with nothing left to hold her back.

                The time that passed could have been seconds; it could have been hours. When he finally pulled back, she found herself blinking furiously, her vision blurry. “Oh,” she said softly, feeling warm and relaxed in his arms. “I…”

                He chuckled, pressing a light kiss to her jaw. “That’s my girl.”

                A horrible thought came to her, making her stomach turn. “M-Mr. Johnson…you didn’t just ask me about the test chambers so you could…do… _that_ , did you?”

                It was no secret that everyone at Aperture thought Caroline had slept her way to Cave’s side. She saw the way they looked at her, some giving Cave winks of appreciation, others glaring at her in disgust. On more than one occasion, she’d even had employees proposition her themselves, leering over her desk as she tried to refuse with politeness and not with a hard slap in the face. For years, she’d worked to fight the rumours, to prove herself a competent and worthy assistant—but could it all have been for nothing? Had she really just been a pretty face the entire time?

                “Caroline.”

                His voice broke through her panicked inner monologue, the single word silencing her thoughts. She’d never heard that voice with that tone before. It was…gentle. She realized suddenly that her gaze had fallen, apparently fixated on his tie. Mustering her courage, she forced herself to meet his eye.

                His expression was soft, softer than she’d ever seen it. “Caroline, I’m not gonna lie to you: You’re a gorgeous woman. We couldn’t design one better than you. I’ve been wanting to  _do that_ since the second you came in for an interview—”

                She felt ill. “Mr. Johnson, I—”

                “—but I kept getting too damn distracted,” he continued, as if she hadn’t spoken. “You kept surprising me with all those smart little things you say. Every time I thought about bending you over this desk, you came up with some genius idea that made it damn near impossible to focus on anything but whatever you’d said. Hell, I’m lucky enough to have caught you now. I almost got distracted again.”

                 _Bending me over—oh_. It was a good thing she was sitting down, because otherwise she surely would have fainted.

                “Point is, you’re brilliant, kiddo. Smartest of any of us. All I wanted was your opinion on that test chamber. Everything else is just a bonus.”

                She considered it. It was possible that he was lying, but her boss had never been the world’s greatest liar. He was more the blunt type—blunt, yet charming. Somehow, she had a feeling he was being fully honest, which meant that he valued her opinion.

                He valued  _her_ opinion.

                “Mr. Johnson?”

                “Mm?”

                “Thanks.” With nary a thought of the unlocked door, she kissed him, warm with his touch and with his respect.


End file.
